


Kyber, Light and Dark

by chibiMuffin999



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Anakin didn't fall - he's still kind of an idiot though, Banter, Domestic fluff occurs, F/M, I'm not tagging the supporting cast, M/M, Mand'alor, Mental Health Issues, Non-Smut, Occasionally silly, Planet Mandalore (Star Wars), SO MUCH BANTER, Slightly altered canon AU, Slow Build, Some Swearing, Star Wars if it had decent mental health care and people actually talked to each other about things, Starring Luke and Din, Tags May Change, War Mention, mostly serious, past trauma, ptsd referenced (not named), there are a lot of supporting cast
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-20 13:00:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 14,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30005244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibiMuffin999/pseuds/chibiMuffin999
Summary: The Empire never rose, the Jedi never fell. But that doesn't mean things are simple.Luke Skywalker grows up to become a Jedi, like his father before him... Sort of.Din Djarin grows up to be a Mandalorian Bounty Hunter... Only to be dragged into main-character status whether he likes it or not by an adorable green trouble-magnet. Somehow, despite his best efforts, he is now the freshly minted Mand'alor - ruler of the Mandalorian people.It's complicated.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa/Han Solo, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 21
Kudos: 97





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> We're starting in the past for a couple of (brief) chapters before the Skywalker- Amidala twins come on the scene. You won't miss a lot if you skip these, but they do help inform the story a bit. (Mostly, I like giving things context) - If you're choosing to bypass this part, still read the crawl in chapter 4 or you may be confused later on. The kids show up in chapter 5. The meaty part of the story starts with chapter 7 -
> 
> Positive and constructive comments are deeply appreciated :)

The ornately carved door to Obi-wan’s study abruptly burst open, followed quickly by a cloaked figure, hood drawn up. Seated beside a tidy desk that filled one side of the small office - and clearly interrupted mid-sentence - Mace Windu frowned.

Obi-wan sighed.

“It’s considered polite to _knock_ on a door before opening it, Anakin,” he reprimanded mildly, without looking up. With a flick of his wrist the door swung smoothly closed behind the newcomer. By now, Skywalker's presence in the Force was as familiar to him as breathing. Besides, no one else on Coruscant was brash enough to barge into a Jedi Master’s private study unannounced.  
Mace rubbed irritably at the bridge of his nose.

Anakin tossed back his hood as he entered, absently discarding the cloak over a side table without a backward glance. He was clearly agitated, fidgeting uncharacteristically with the hem of his robes, words tumbling forth as his as his mouth outran his mind. He stopped awkwardly behind Kenobi’s chair. “My apologies Master. It’s just - I need a word- I-” he glanced at Mace, whose frown only deepened.

What Anakin had to say _did_ concern the entire Jedi Order… so really it was fitting that both men should hear it firsthand. But while he knew Master Kenobi would hear him out, he wasn’t so sure about Master Windu. Their relationship had always been strained, bordering on hostile at times. Windu tolerated him, but there was no love lost between them.

Obi-wan had by now turned to face Anakin, studying him thoughtfully. He seemed to sense that this was serious. With a gesture, Kenobi brought a lean wooden chair sliding from its place across the room to draw up at the desk, a clear invitation. After a moment’s hesitation, Anakin made up his mind and sat.

Master Windu was severe, but he was honest – sometimes brutally so. There was nothing to be gained in alienating him further - and if he could be made to listen, he would be a powerful ally in what Anakin feared was soon to come.

Anakin inclined his head respectfully, “ _Masters_ ,” he amended, “I must speak with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a casual Star Wars fan and I haven't watched the prequels in a long time (because they are terrible and had the potential to be great, and it makes me sad). I just finished up Season 2 of the Mandalorian so I'm reasonably well versed there - but the point is that I'm writing these for fun and fun only :)
> 
> I did spend a fair amount of time on Wookiepedia trying to make the world feel reasonably authentic, but if there are little mistakes or hiccups here and there, please just ignore them. They're either because 1) I didn't know enough about the thing or just plain goofed 2) I made up the thing and it happens to be similar to a canon thing by accident 3) I'm hand-waving this so the story can happen.
> 
> Mostly, this is a long-winded way to ship Din and Luke together, because something about their potential dynamic pleases me :D I hope you enjoy.


	2. Chapter 2

“This… is a very serious accusation,” Obi-wan said slowly when Anakin had finished laying out his story. Master Windu had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout. His hands were steepled beneath his chin, mouth a thin, unreadable line. Anakin tried not to let it unnerve him. He kept his attention on Obi-wan and nodded.

“I know, Master,” he replied quietly, “But I would not be here if I wasn’t sure of what I felt.” Right now he felt a bit like a youngling tattling on a friend, but Anakin firmly pushed that thought away. Whether the Chancellor had been kind to him or not was irrelevant. Whether it had stroked his ego more than he liked to admit - to be singled out, to be favored - none of that mattered now….

He was still afraid for Padme, but even this did not cloud his senses completely. He could no longer ignore the faint air of - _wrongness-_ that drifted through the Force in Chancellor Palpatine’s presence. The slightly too convenient temptation of his shining promises – the careful flattery and all the leading questions. Anakin had meditated on his dreams, searching for meaning, and lately he had begun to wonder if the man who claimed to offer his wife’s salvation was instead the very threat to her life that Anakin feared.

Admittedly, had he not been Padme’s bodyguard as long as he had – had he not given into his affection for her, grown closer than he should have… had he not seen first-hand the wheels of politics turning and heard her frustrations at the duplicity and intrigue – he might very well have missed the signs. He had only barely registered them as it was, and he wasn’t proud of that.

“It _would_ make sense, actually,” Master Windu spoke up suddenly, startling Anakin, who had nearly forgotten he was there. “We’ve wondered how the Separatists always seem to know we’re coming, always seem to be one step ahead. We’ve suspected a spy, but we never thought to looked so high up to find them.”

Obi-wan scratched at his chin, clearly puzzled. “Yes, but why would the Chancellor bother with the Senate at all if he’s allied with the Sith? I believe you, Anakin, I do-” he reassured quickly,”-but it’s taken years for Chancellor Palpatine to reach the position he’s in – years in which he’s been earned a reputation as an incomparable diplomat and statesman… To spend so long in the public eye without once giving himself away? I know the Sith are devious, but this seems a bit intricate, even for them…”

Master Windu nodded gravely. “You make a good point, Master Kenobi.” He folded his hands in his lap, looking more unhappy than ever. “But much as it pains me to admit, I must agree with Master Skywalker’s assessment. This is the only way that the pieces begin to make sense when taken together. Consider what we know: The Chancellor is briefed on our every move, and he spends a great deal of time working alone in his private offices. He has every opportunity to relay sensitive information to anyone he chooses, and he has all the authority needed to bypass normal holo message security protocols that would flag suspicious calls. And if the man _is_ indeed a Sith Lord, that may explain the strange fogginess we have encountered when communing with the Force of late – as well as his unusual interest in Master Skywalker. Turning a powerful young Jedi to the Dark Side would be too tempting a prize for such a man to turn down.”

“Then …you agree with me, Master?” Anakin confirmed uncertainly. It would be a first.

Windu’s brow furrowed further. “You and I do not see eye to eye, Skywalker. I expect we never will. You are hot-headed, rash, and you do not consider the consequences of your actions as you should.” He held up a hand to stop Anakin’s protests. “But you are also a Jedi, and for all your … questionable… methods, a resourceful and formidable one.   
I have honestly never approved of Master Kenobi’s methods either-” he added shooting a pointed look at Obi-wan, who smothered a smirk, but said nothing. Windu returned his attention to Anakin, “-but neither can I deny their effectiveness.”

He sighed, looking weary for the first time in Anakin’s experience. “We asked you to observe the Chancellor on the Order’s behalf, and you have done that. I do not sense dishonesty in your accounting of events, and have no reason to distrust the evidence before me. The council will discuss the matter when we meet this afternoon, and take the necessary action from there.”

Anakin balked. “But Master, we must act quickly! If we wait-“

“If we spring to action, and you are correct, the Chancellor will know he is discovered and he will act to cover his tracks or perhaps to escape,” Windu cut in crisply. “Lives may be lost. If we do not attract undue attention now, he may still be caught unawares. We will discuss your… unusual dreams regarding the Senator at a later date.”

Stung, Anakin glowered. Master Windu always managed to make him feel like a scolded Padawan somehow. Apparently finished with the conversation, Windu rose to his feet. “We have much work to do.” He gave them a curt nod, “Master Skywalker. Master Kenobi.”

Anakin made to follow as the Jedi Master took his leave, but Obi-wan set a staying hand on his shoulder before Skywalker could open his mouth again. For all the strides Anakin had made in controlling himself, Kenobi knew his former apprentice’s pride well enough to know it still ran hotter than a Jedi’s ought. “Thank you, Anakin,” he said firmly. Anakin stilled, embarrassed, and sat back. Obi-wan went on calmly as if he hadn’t noticed, watching the last glimpse of grey-brown robes vanish behind the study door.

“You resisted a powerful temptation to the Dark Side,” Obi-wan told him, turning back to Anakin. He leaned one hip against the desk and crossed his arms with a faint shudder. “You know you are very strong with the Force. Had you succumbed…” He trailed off, then shook himself. “We should not have placed you in a Sith Lord’s path.”

It could have been disastrous. Anakin wasn’t sure what would happen if he gave in to the gnawing anger that had simmered inside him for years, but it would not be pretty.   
“You didn’t know, Master.”

“No… no. We … I suppose there is a great deal we did not know,” Obi-wan mused quietly. He looked uneasy. “And perhaps more yet to be uncovered.”

Anakin studied the black leather of his gloved hand for a long moment. He sighed, steeling himself. It would come out one way or another soon, and if he was going to tell anyone, Obi-wan deserved to be the first to know.

He took a deep breath and looked up to meet his Master’s eyes. “There …is something else you should know.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Padme’s child-…“ Anakin began, before realizing he wasn’t actually sure how to explain it all. There were so many twisting, tangled threads to unravel. He felt rather than saw the moment when Obi-wan put the pieces together.

“-It’s yours.”  
It wasn’t a question. Anakin slowly nodded anyway.

Obi-wan dropped his face into his hands and groaned, before quickly pulling himself together. “Alright, alright - …Well, your timing is awful. And this certainly raises a host of complications… The news will likely impact Senator Amidala’s political career if word gets out…” Obi-wan scrubbed at his beard contemplatively. “The impact will be felt, but- well, it’s been some time… but It isn’t _unheard of_ for there to be dalliances between a Jedi and -“  
  
“Padme isn’t a _dalliance_ ,” Anakin snapped with more venom than he’d intended. He couldn’t stand to let Obi-wan believe- to let _anyone_ believe- Obi-wan stared openly at him. It was too late to turn back now.  
  
“She’s my wife.”

There was silence for a long terrible moment. Obi-wan sounded half horrified and half awed. “Force - Anakin, what have you done?!”

__

“I love her,” Anakin insisted feverishly in lieu of answering. He felt like he was babbling, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. “I love her, and I always have. And she loves me. We… We wanted to have something that no one could take from us, so we… on Naboo… we got married. That was a year ago…” He braced himself for a fight. “I don’t regret it.”

Anakin expected Obi-wan to chastise him – to remind him that a true Jedi knows no attachment, but to his surprise, his Master did not move. Kenobi simply stood there, silent. That was somehow worse.

Obi-wan’s voice was almost inaudible when he finally spoke, “Do you …remember Satine?”

That took Anakin aback. “The… Duchess of Mandalore?” Anakin had met her – he’d saved her life once in fact. From what he remembered, she’d been a tiny, pale, ferociously pacifist woman with delicate, almost fragile looking features. Features which completely belied her stubborn, utterly unyielding nature. Once Satine had set her mind on something, she was unmovable – something that had done little to win her friends or allies.

Obi-wan was quiet again for a long time. “I loved her… much, I imagine, as you love Padme. Had she said the word, I would have left the Jedi behind without a second thought.”

Now it was Anakin’s turn to stare.

“She never did. Satine was a woman who put duty first, and that included mine. I… don’t know what would have happened if I _had_ done it. Maybe she would still be alive. Maybe not. She had more than enough enemies on her own… but …it was one of _mine_ that killed her.”

“I …remember,” Anakin said softly. He hadn’t fully understood the depth of Obi-wan’s grief at the time, but he’d known that they had been close. Perhaps he’d been too caught up in his own head to see it. “But I don’t understand… Are you… warning me against attachment… or telling me to embrace it?”

“Take it for whatever you like, Ani,” Obi-wan replied wearily. He waved a hand absently as if to brush the memories away. “I made a choice and now I have to live with the consequences. And soon, I’m afraid, you will have to do the same.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make believe this is a fancy Star Wars intro crawl

_It’s been six years since Chancellor Palpatine’s failed bid to destroy the Republic. His would-be empire crumbled upon his capture, and most of his subordinates surrendered rather than die for the cause. Caught by surprise and vastly outnumbered, Palpatine was unable to resist capture, nor to initiate Order 66. Casualties were few. Upon learning of this lethal secret programming, the clone army was systematically deprogrammed and cleared clone troopers have since been stationed as peacekeepers throughout the galaxy. The droid armies of the Separatist movement, rendered leaderless, have been almost entirely routed and scrapped._

_The Jedi order survives, though much has changed._

_Anakin Skywalker and Senator Padme Amidala announced their surreptitious marriage just after the birth of their twin children, Luke and Leia, on the Senator’s home planet of Naboo. Immediately after, Skywalker officially left the Jedi Order in order to be with his family. While the acting Queen of Naboo was publicly displeased with Amidala’s secrecy, she accepted the Senator’s explanation and apologies, and after a brief suspension (which suspiciously resembled a maternity leave) returned the Senator to her duties in the galactic senate within the year – husband and children never far behind._

_The Jedi Order, having faced their own imminent extinction, was forced to acknowledge that they had failed to detect the threat in their midst, and to try to understand what brought them to this point. They have since begun to reexamine their old ways and traditions, to great effect._

_Announced at the beginning of the preceding year, the Jedi have recognized that they had isolated themselves too sharply from the very people they were meant to protect, and were no longer in tune with the Force as they should be. The following measures have been enacted to correct this mistake:_

_It has been decided that Jedi will no longer be required to sever all personal attachment, but instead learn to connect themselves to the energy of the entire galaxy - in a sense to feel attachment to all life – in order to more clearly represent the great unifying web of energy that makes up the Force. It has also been determined that the Jedi must no longer take Force-Sensitive younglings from their homes except in the most dire of circumstances, but instead build schools, temples, and training grounds on homeworlds across the galaxy. The children who attend will receive fundamental education in a variety of subjects, as well as optional holo lectures on meditation, spiritual topics, and Jedi history with junior Masters, until they are ready to decide if they will join the Order as padawans. Padawans will follow a largely traditional trajectory of Jedi training, and will be matched with a Master who will instruct them in the ways of the Force, and the responsibilities that following this path brings._

_If all goes as planned, this will allow Force sensitive children to remain connected to the communities from which they come, which should in turn improve the standard of living for all those within the community. It also hopes to prevent tragic situations like that of Shmi Skywalker and countless other families who were left behind to lives of poverty, suffering, and slavery when their children were recruited to the Jedi Order. Taking on the roles of peace-keepers and teachers instead of soldiers, the Jedi now live and work among the citizens of the Republic to improve the lives of peoples across the galaxy._

_Spearheading this reinvigoration, Anakin Skywalker has been officially inducted back into the Jedi order as a senior Master – though he splits his time between work on Coruscant and family on Naboo now. Many other Jedi, particularly the junior Masters, have begun to follow his example._


	5. Chapter 5

A stuffed bantha dangled teasingly above Anakin’s head as children’s poorly stifled giggles echoed from the next room. It did a clumbsy loop-de-loop, coming dangerously close to colliding with his skull, before coming to a wobbling halt beside his ear.

The twins were up from their nap then, apparently. Anakin shrugged and rolled out stiff shoulders. It was just as well. He’d been at this for hours and he couldn’t stare at this old tome much longer or his brain was going to start melting out of his ears. He shut it away in a drawer and closed his eyes, reaching out.

Unlike the toddler terrors in the next room, Anakin could clearly see his targets through the Force. The toy did a neat about-face before sailing into the nursery and plopping down between Leia’s plaited pigtails. The giggling got louder. The bantha ‘jumped’ from one twin to the other, vigorously scruffing Luke’s perpetually messy blonde dandelion fluff with its stubby rounded legs.  
The laughter crescendoed, as he heard them racing around the room, trying to catch the stuffed toy that darted and danced merrily just out of reach.  
Luke was trying to summon it down with coaxing, while Leia appeared to be taking a flying leap off of her bed. Neither succeeded, but he had to admire their tenacity.

__

The twins had been nearly inseparable from the day they were born, but in many ways they were as different as night and day.

Luke was excitable, trusting, and endlessly cheerful. His features were round and gentle, like Padme’s, but he had his father’s fair hair and blue eyes. The boy was generous to a fault, and constantly trying to give his toys away to people if he thought they needed cheering up. Padme had taken to calling him her little sunbeam.

Leia’s features were far sharper and more angular than her brother’s, even with the softness of her age to compensate. She had inherited Padme’s dark, serious eyes and the thick brown curls to match. Leia was curious about everything - already much more savvy to the ways of the adults around her than her brother- and far too clever for her own good by half. She was kind-hearted and could be very sweet, but she was also blunt and strong-willed. Where Luke was soft and gentle, Leia was direct and fearless.

The two of them together were a formidable handful. Between them, they shared enormous Force sensitivity, a stubborn streak several parsecs wide, the boundless energy available only to very young children … and a talent for getting into trouble.

__

Having finally captured their quarry, the children burst out of the nursery, clutching the now inert stuffed animal and shrieking with triumph. He was pleased to see neither of them had managed to skin a knee this time.

“Oh _that’s_ where he went off to,” Anakin feigned surprise as he stood up to greet his children, catching Leia when she launched herself straight into his arms. He accepted the toy that Luke pushed up at him, pretending to study the creature. It had been made FAR cuter than it deserved in toy form. “I thought I saw this little fella flying around a minute ago.”

“I made it fly,” Luke confided proudly, tugging on his father’s leg. “It went wooooooosh,” he added, spinning around with his arms out to demonstrate and nearly winding up flat on his bottom.

“I saw, good job,” Anakin assured him, dropping the doll to scoop his son up with his free arm. Leia’s little hands were braced on either side of Anakin’s shoulder, big dark eyes still sparkling merrily. He turned to her, gently bouncing the little girl against his chest. “Do you want to try and fly it too, princess?” Leia considered this for a moment, then nodded decisively. She was a bit more hesitant about using the Force than Luke was - who seemed to take to it like a gungan to water. Leia was just as talented as her brother, but she often required a bit more coaxing to actually make use of her powers.  
Carefully, Leia reached out and closed her eyes. The toy wobbled, but obediently rose to her outstretched hand before settling with a clumsy _whump_ into her lap when her concentration faltered. Leia squeezed its plush fur victoriously in her tiny fists, giggling proudly.

In retrospect, the giggling probably should’ve been the first warning that she was up to something.

Leia squeezed her eyes shut once more, concentrated hard, and the bantha did a slow, lazy spin in midair for a few moments… before zipping sideways and crashing full tilt into her brother’s face. Luke yipped with surprise for just a moment, before getting into the spirit himself and launching the toy back at his sister. The two of them carried on merrily bludgeoning each other with a force-guided plush missile, trying to take cover behind their father’s head, who was laughing much too hard to do anything to stop them.

Luke was just winding up for another return volley when a voice interrupted their game.

“Really Ani, I leave you three alone for one afternoon and come back to find my children beating the stuffing out of each other?“ Padme stood with crossed arms in the doorway, eyeing the scene before her with mock disapproval.

“Momma!” Luke howled, trying to lunge for her. Leia shrieked and squirmed –the doll dropping forgotten to the floor between them. Both twins nearly toppled out of their father’s arms before he could get them safely to the ground.

“Hey, hey, take it easy, my little womp rats!” Anakin shook his head, barely regaining his balance. The children sprinted to their mother, eagerly clutching at her skirts and chattering incoherently over each other. Anakin sighed and leaned over his children’s heads to steal a kiss. The twins clamored unabated around Padme’s knees vying for her attention.  
Anakin heaved another sigh, much louder and much more dramatic, and draped an arm against his forehead in the most tragic pose he could muster, swooning back against the door frame. “I see how it is. I see, now. Momma gets home and Daddy’s chopped protein block, huh?”  
Padme rolled her eyes indulgently.

Leia, having begun to learn what sarcasm was – and that her father seemed full of it - ignored him. She wanted to hear about the Senate and what they had debated today. Had Padme made any new laws? She didn’t seem to quite understand how the Senate actually _worked_ yet, but Leia was absolutely enthralled by the idea of it. She was already telling anyone who would listen that she was going to be a senator when she grew up. Leia took after her mother, there was no mistake.

Luke, however, was more tender-hearted than his sister. He returned at once, with a guilty look in his eyes, and hugged Anakin tightly around the knees. “Don’t be sad, Daddy! You’re not protein block!” Luke told him very seriously, craning up to look at his father. “Protein block is _gross_.” 

“Thanks buddy,” Anakin leaned down and kissed the top of his son’s head. “I feel much better now.” He didn’t have the heart to admit he’d been only teasing.

“Well aren’t you in luck, my darlings,” Padme - not to be left out of the fun - adopted her most serious expression as she hoisted Leia up to her hip. “Here I had been thinking all day that we might have chopped protein block for supper-” Leia pouted as if to say _oh not you **too**_ , and Luke blanched, making a horrified face. Their mother was struggling not to smile. “But wouldn’t you know it, they were all out of protein block tonight!” Padme pulled an exaggerated one-armed shrug, playfully tapping her daughter’s nose. Leia looked mildly affronted. “I suppose we’ll just have to eat the eel chowder I brought home instead…” Padme sighed, gesturing vaguely toward the basket she’d set on the dining table. The children perked up at this. “I mean, if you don’t _mind_ that is…”

“Did it come with fringe cake?!” Luke bounced eagerly on his heels, one hand still vaguely clutching onto Anakin’s trouser leg, momentary disgust forgotten. The light syrupy cake was a beloved favorite of both children, but in Luke’s mind it had no equal. Leia eyed the basket calculatingly. If there was eel chowder _and_ cake in there, her interest was piqued.

Padme made a show of thinking carefully about this. “Hmm… it might have,” she said slowly, as if she truly wasn’t sure. “I didn’t think to ask. Maybe we should look and see?”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here there be angst

There was in fact fringe cake, as well as horstberry cider, and seaweed rolls on the side.

After everyone had eaten their fill, Luke and Leia finally settled down to watch the new holo that they’d been begging for all week, while their parents puttered between the dining room and the kitchenette, tidying up.

Anakin rolled up his sleeves and started scrubbing, as an armful of forks and sticky plates was delivered to the soapy water with a light _plop_. Padme swept past in a rustle of soft fabric and the faint scent of Naboo jasmine, on her way to collect the rest. Her footsteps slowed as she reached the table before stopping altogether. He heard her move toward the living room before being distracted by a stubborn spot of dried-on syrup goo. A few minutes later, she still hadn’t returned.

Padme was standing very still in the doorway to the living room when Anakin found her. The twins were completely engrossed in their film, - which appeared to feature a dancing and singing droid for some reason - and hadn’t noticed her. He wasn’t sure if she was looking at the children, or past them.

“Everything alright?”  
Padme startled when Anakin touched her shoulder, ducking suddenly back into the dining room, where she began busily gathering dishes. “Sorry, I was just - I got distracted. I shouldn’t leave all the washing up to you-“

Anakin followed her, noting the way her hands shook. “Padme?”

She didn’t answer, hurrying past with a small stack of cups and spoons, and dropping them into the sink with slightly more force than necessary. Soapy water splashed up and soaked into the fabric of her dress. Here she hesitated, bracing herself against the counter on either side of the sink, as if she didn’t know what to do next.

Anakin hovered in the doorway. She seemed to need room to breathe. “Padme _, please_. Talk to me.” Her back stiffened. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you remember how terrified we used to be…?” Padme spoke so softly that he almost didn’t hear her. Her arms wrapped around herself, fingers moving restlessly against her sleeves when she finally turned around. “When we found out about them?” There was no question who she meant. “We were going to have a family that we weren’t allowed to keep… And with the war on top of everything else- …” She shivered. “What could have _happened_ to them-“

“I remember.” Anakin crossed the room and gently pulled Padme into his arms, holding her in silence beside the forgotten sink until the shivering gradually stopped. She wiped ineffectively at her eyes, breathing slowly steadying out.

Old wounds opened up for both of them every so often – though less and less as the years went by. Each time it knocked them off of their feet all over again. This had been a familiar pattern for a while: the sudden gripping panic, cold overwhelming fear, slowly, gradually, coming back to the present... But almost a year had passed since the last time, and Anakin had begun to hope that the past was finally finished haunting them.

“I nearly lost you,” Padme whispered against his shirt, though she sounded steadier now. “We could have lost _them_. I- I was just looking at that _stupid_ bantha doll on the floor and … I don’t know, it just … washed over me, how easily it all could’ve been different…”

Anakin nodded, carefully running his hand up and down her arm in what he hoped was a soothing motion. He knew better than most how close the Republic - his family along with them – had come to destruction.  
  
“I know. …I’m sorry.”

They didn’t talk about it, not anymore… but he knew Padme had been afraid of him for a while; when he had drifted too close to the darkness. Afraid of what she saw him becoming. It had taken time to heal that rift, even after the twins were born.  
“If it helps… I was scared out of my mind too.”

Padme snorted at that and swatted at his shoulder. “Of course that doesn’t help, you _nerf-herder_!” she scolded with a weak, watery laugh. “Contrary to what you might think, I don’t enjoy your suffering.” 

“Liar.”  
Padme swatted him again. He pressed a kiss into her hair.  
“There was definitely a time I wasn’t sure we’d ever actually get here either. Be like this…”

He trailed off, watching the flickering glow from the twins’ holo as it reflected in distorted abstract patterns across the polished dining table.  
If he’d given into his fear, he would have followed Palpatine, would’ve done horrible things. His wife might’ve been caught in the crossfire. His children-  
The room suddenly felt cold and his chest went tight.

_Kriff_ , now he was doing it too. Clamping down tight on his feelings, Anakin forced his eyes closed, sucked in slow deep breaths, and tried to concentrate. He needed to center himself quickly and calm down, or the children would sense him and want to know what was wrong.  
It was a minor miracle they hadn’t sensed Padme’s distress already - but Padme was also well-schooled in masking her feelings from so many years in politics. Anakin’s emotions had always been loud and intense. If he let them out, the twins wouldn’t stay distracted for long. While their children were always begging for stories of adventure from the old days, they were far too young to hear stories like these.

Padme felt Anakin stiffen. It was her turn to hold him now.  
“I’m sorry, Ani,” She murmured soothingly, drawing his head down onto her shoulder and stroking his hair. He nodded, not quite ready to speak again yet. She sighed. “I didn’t mean to stir up bad memories. It just… hit me tonight. That’s all.”

After a moment, the cold heavy dread receded and he finally opened his eyes.  
“I know… I know you didn’t.” Anakin took a few more deep breaths. He still felt raw and a bit hollowed out, but he could handle that. The past was dead. It could not hurt him now.  
“Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Padme’s head came to rest on his chest, listening to the slowly steadying heartbeat underneath. “Like you said, it’s just… hard to think about it.”  
  


Padme hummed agreement and nuzzled against his collarbone.  
“You’re in a much better place now, though,” she said softly, He could feel her faint smile when he startled at that. “I don’t need Jedi powers to see it, if that’s what you’re thinking, love.”  
Padme tilted her head up to study him, one hand gently cradling his face. “You were so _angry_ back then. For a while, I hardly recognized you under it all. You’re not like that anymore.”

Anakin thought about this, covering Padme’s hand with his own and pressing a kiss into her palm. “I… guess I’m not. Angry anymore, that is.”

“You seem happy.”

Anakin’s eyes went back to the holo’s glow as it flickered and danced. Cheerful music piped in time, and from the other room one of the twins sneezed.  
His family was safe, and Force willing, they’d stay that way. He curled himself tighter around his wife as the last of the tension in his shoulders drained away.

“That’s because I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaand this is where I leave you for a little while :D 
> 
> I've got several more chapters written and basically finished, but I want to pace out the story and leave time for tweaks before I get too ahead of myself. (The big update up front was so anyone who's just here for the Din/Luke but not interested in any prequel stuff could skip ahead without having to sit through six updates before getting to the goods) It's going to be a slow build, but focus shifts from Anakin and Padme's dynamic to Luke and Leia (and Luke and others....) from here on out. 
> 
> We'll be heading into the *~*FUUUUUUTUUUUURE*~* in the next chapter, so stay tuned!


	7. Chapter 7

**_-14 years later-_ **

_Life had been good to Anakin in the last few decades. His hair was beginning to turn silver at the temples and crows feet had stolen their way to the corners of his eyes. But time had not dimmed the fire that burned there, nor stolen the sureness of his steps. Obi-wan had taken to teasing him about how ‘distinguished’ he was getting. Anakin pretended to be offended._

_His children had grown into bright, accomplished adults, and Padme now chaired a Senate committee in charge of helping new worlds transition into the Republic – a committee that Leia had joined last month. Their lives were busy but… refreshingly mundane of late._

“Did Master Plo talk to you about graduating yet?” Anakin asked as they walked. The lush public gardens of Theed were full of riotous color this time of year; a dazzling rainbow of flowers, vines, herbs and fruits. The perfume of a thousand blossoms was thick in the summer air, clinging to them as they passed.

Luke sighed and batted half-heartedly at a twisting branch that hung over the path. Brittle olive-green leaves rustled in protest.

“Yes. He did.”

“And?”

“And …I’m not sure.”

Anakin slowed, glancing at his son sidelong. “Not sure about what?”

“I don’t know…” Luke turned his face to the sky, squinting up into the bright midday sun at nothing in particular. “I just… I thought I would feel a _calling_ – something in the Force to tell me this is the right path, y’know? That I’m ready to be a Master…” After a moment’s silence he turned back and looked at Anakin. “Didn’t you?”

“My situation was… a little different,” Anakin hedged. Whether or not he felt a calling had been largely irrelevant at the time. The Force hadn’t so much called him to a path, as it had hurled him bodily in the direction that it wanted him to go. He hadn’t had a lot of choice in the matter. “You’ll find your way.”

Anakin had never talked much about his life before the end of the Clone War, and but Luke and Leia had learned the bones of the story from their history lessons – in which their family featured surprisingly prominently. Luke didn’t press further.  
  
Instead, he frowned and scruffed at the damp blonde wisps that clung to his neck. He’d come straight from a training session and his hair was still wet. Master Yoda had been working him extra hard before passing away last year… and now Master Plo seemed determined to do the same. It was ostensibly in preparation for the pending Master’s examination, but Luke couldn’t help the stubborn feeling that there was more to it than this… Unfortunately, Master Plo was just as bad as Master Yoda had been when it came to cryptic answers and strange methods. Between the two of them, it was impossible to tell.  
  
“I’m sure you’re right… And I don’t understand why this is bothering me so much either! It just… seems like the way should be clearer somehow.”

They paused beneath a muja tree, heavy with ripe, sunset colored fruit. Anakin selected two, handing one over to Luke. They ate in companionable silence for a moment, looking out over the gardens and the myriad species that browsed them.

“Meditate on it?” Anakin suggested after a while, discarding his flat grey muja pit into a nearby compost bin. Luke mumbled vague assent, passing his barely touched fruit from hand to hand.

Anakin wiped his hands against his pantleg. Padme hated it when he did this, but since she wasn’t here to be scandalized... “Luke… You have time to decide. If not this year, maybe next.”

“Yeah… I guess so,” Luke sighed, slipping the muja into his training bag. It’d probably be a squishy mess by the time he remembered it was in there, but he didn’t feel particularly hungry just now.

“Your _skills_ are ready,” Anakin assured him with a smile, squeezing his son’s shoulder encouragingly. “When you feel like you are too, the Jedi will be waiting.”

Luke hummed a noncommittal reply and pushed away from the tree. They set off again, haloed in the relentless tawny-gold sun.  
  
“Have you heard from Leia? Mom said her transport is coming in sometime tonight.”

“It is. Around 8, I think. It sounds like she might be staying for a while this time, if the negotiations go as slowly as they’re expected to.”

Luke perked up at that. He and Leia chatted over coms nearly every night, but he still missed her fiercely when she was away at work.  
Leia had been an aid to Alderaan’s chief Senataor, Bail Organa, since she was sixteen – after wheedling her mother to send her offworld for months – and had since established herself as a rising star in the Galactic Senate. She’d become a junior Senator at twenty and last year been elected to serve as a fully-fledged Senator for Alderaan; doubling her already impressive workload. Leia had been home only a handful of times in the last few years, and usually less than a week at a time before duty called her back. If the negotiations dragged out and kept her on Naboo for a while, that would suit Luke just fine.

“Is she bringing Han?”

Anakin sighed. “Unfortunately. And his wookie friend, apparently.”

“Hey, I like Chewie! And Han too. They’re good guys.”

As far as Anakin was concerned, Han Solo was a cocky, arrogant little shit who had been a black market smuggler for a long time, before finally becoming a legitimate cargo pilot a year or two before he and Leia got involved. Solo still swaggered like a pirate, talked too big and too much for his own good, and had far too many friends in the underworld for Anakin’s tastes. Leia, however, was as strong-willed as ever, and there was no talking her out of anything once she set her mind on it. For the time being, Han was here to stay.

Anakin just shrugged.  
“Your sister is a grown woman and I trust her to make her own decisions. That doesn’t mean I have to like them.”


	8. Chapter 8

“Ugh, that man is impossible,” Leia grumbled into her drink, rolling her eyes. The wookie seated across from her barked out something in Shyriiwook. She nodded. “I know, Chewie, I know. You’re right – but he could at least work with us. The bastard won’t give an _inch_.”

“Leia dear, let’s not bring work to the table,” Padme admonished mildly, helping herself to another slice of savory chuba pie as the dish passed her. “I’ve been hearing about the Mand’alor all day as it is, and I’d like a break, at least for one meal.”

“I thought that was the name of the planet?” Luke paused with his fork halfway to his lips, genuinely confused.

The man beside Leia sneered. “Don’t sweat it, kid. Those tin-cans don’t **believe** in things making sense.”

Leia swatted him in the back of the head and shot him a warning look. “He’s not a kid, Han. We’re exactly the same age. Stop being an idiot and behave yourself.”

“The title of the Mandalorian ruler is pronounced the same as the planet’s name, but spelled differently,” Padme explained patiently. “And I’d really like to drop it until _after_ dinner, please.”

“So, Han. How long will you be staying with us?” Anakin piped up suddenly. “I assume you’ll have to leave to run shipments at some point during the negotiation process?”

Han leaned back in his seat and propped his arms behind his head “Actually no, I’m not going anywhere for a while.” He jerked a thumb in Leia’s direction. “Not unless princess needs a lift, anyway.“

“Technically, he and Chewie are working for me right now,” Leia clarified. Anakin’s eyebrow raised. “I needed a pilot that I could trust on retainer, just in case I have to attend to any sudden emergencies on Alderaan. Han is the best one I know. And Chewie is a top-notch mechanic. Besides, given I didn’t know how long I’d be here…” She shrugged. “It just made sense.”

“You’ll need a mechanic if he’s still flying that old junker he was in the last time I saw you!” Luke snickered.  
He couldn’t help himself. Han teased him constantly whenever he visited, and every now and again Luke just couldn’t resist the temptation to get him back. They were honestly good friends, ribbing aside.  
He knew Han had been working on the Millennium Falcon off and on for years, and bragged endlessly about all the customization he’d done… But and old junker with a fresh coat of paint was still an old junker. “Did you finally trade that trash-pile in and get a real ship?”

Han bristled. “Now look here, the Falcon is a fine ship – possibly the fastest in the galaxy! She is _not_ a junker!“ Chewbacca trilled in agreement and Han nodded, vindicated. “See! Chewie gets it.”

“I’ve tried to get him to sell it,” Leia confided, “But I might as well tell him to sell a kidney with how he reacts.”

“I told you, she’s one of a kind!” Han grumbled.

Leia took a placid sip of her wine, patting Han’s hand comfortingly. “Yes, you did. And… I can’t technically argue with you there. But seriously, if you don’t fix the rattling in the control panel before our next trip-“

Han grinned and threw an arm around Leia’s shoulders. “Ah, she’ll be smooth as silk! Don’t worry. Chewie and me’ll be working on her first thing tomorrow.”

“Mmm… if you say so.”

__

“He’s been an absolute nightmare to negotiate with,” Leia sighed, leaning back against the smooth red stone of the courtyard wall. Overhead, the night sky was a hazy purple-grey, dotted here and there with a faint glint of starlight. It was never truly dark in Theed – there were too many people and too many lights for that – which meant that there were almost never any actual stars to be seen. It was beautiful here nonetheless. “He barely says a word half the time - and when he does, it’s usually ‘no’.”

“If he’s such a pain, why keep bothering with him at all?” Luke sat in the grass beside her, weaving wildflowers into a wreath of sorts, just for something to do. He found he thought better if his hands were busy. “Can’t you just… not induct them?”

“If it was just about this one pain in my ass, sure, we could probably walk away… but his people _need_ help.” Leia slid down to sit, the soft blue linen of her dress flopping in an undignified heap around her. She smiled slightly when Luke deposited his newly fashioned flower crown on her head.  
“Mandalore is just barely habitable, and it turns out there are hundreds of _thousands_ of Mandalorians coming out of the woodwork now that they’ve got a Mand’alor again. They were hiding out all over the galaxy, apparently – and doing a damn good job of it. Plus, with all the adopted children each cloister has taken in, those numbers might be conservative.”

Luke started twining more stems together, idly picking at an errant thorn. “Speaking of kids, isn’t that one of his big things? He’s worried the Order is going to steal his? He knows they don’t take kids away anymore, right?”

“Apparently not,” Leia groaned. “Mom keeps trying to reassure him, but he won’t listen. And it’s not even clear if it’s actually _his_ kid… Their culture has this big focus on family, and that includes ‘foundlings’, as they call them. They don’t distinguish between a child by birth and a child by adoption. If you’re taking care of a child, you’re their parent. Fullstop. It’s a religious thing, I guess. He calls it the Creed.”

“Has anybody even seen them?”

“What, the child?”

Luke nodded.

“No. Nobody that I know of. He won’t bring it off-world and he refuses to let anyone who’s not officially a Mandalorian planet-side until there’s a treaty. He claims there are people who want the kid dead, though he’s not very clear about who that is. We’re pretty sure it’s very young, and it’s male, but that’s all I know so far. That cagey bantha-fucker won’t tell us anything else.”

“ _Hah_. Don’t let Dad hear you talking like that or he’ll get after Han again. He’s still convinced hanging around him and his friends is what got you to ‘swear like a Hutt’.” Luke held up his fingers to make quotation marks in the air.

“ _Psh_ , as if I don’t hear worse at work every day,” Leia dismissed with an imperious wave of her hand. “Dad just doesn’t think _anyone_ is good enough for his _little princess_. I could be dating the Force incarnate and he’d still give them the stink-eye. Han may be an idiot, but he’s a sweet idiot.”

Leai leaned closer, and lowered her voice conspiratorially.

“Actually, speaking of his grand-high Mandalorian pain in my ass: you didn’t hear this from me, but apparently, they’re demanding that we send a Jedi to Mandalore. Just the one, and they’re not even allowed to bring a Padawan. There weren’t a lot of details, but apparently the Mand’alor wants a teacher for his son, and he won’t budge on it. We asked why we couldn’t send a normal delegation. He said, and I quote: ‘ _one is bad enough_ ’. Force knows why he’s so fussy that it _has_ to be a Jedi, if he hates them so much.”

Luke considered this for a moment. “I know there’s some bad history between Mandalore and the Jedi from the war, so I guess I’m not surprised. …But he’s gotta know that nobody’s going to agree to that. _One_ Jedi, alone on a planet full of beskar-plated mercenaries – _who **all hate Jedi**_? I mean, you know what a scary reputation just their bounty-hunters have, and that’s one on one.”

Leia nodded, adjusting her floral halo when it started to slip. Everyone knew the rumors that surrounded the mysterious ‘mandos’; though some were altogether too wild to believe. There were whisperings about a Mandalorian hunter that had singlehandedly killed a krayt dragon on Tatooine a few years back. They said he didn’t even take the pearl afterward – just killed the thing and left. No one seemed to know why.

“It’s been another big sticking point. We can’t move forward until he gets his Jedi preschool teacher, but nobody is willing to go. …Well, except Dad, I guess… And he can’t leave with all the projects he’s running right now. …And I think he might’ve been involved in a civil war there once already…? Besides, Mom would _not_ be happy about it.”

“What does Mom think of the whole situation?”

“Nothing I’m allowed to repeat in polite company.”

Luke snorted.

“You’ll figure it out. I mean, you two are the smartest people I know.”

“Force help me, I’m tempted just to ring his shiny metal neck and be done with it, but I hope you’re right.” The flower crown slid free and landed in her lap. Leia picked it up and fidgeted with it, picking off a leaf here and there. “…I really don’t want to see the Republic turn our backs on a people in need over one paranoid dick and his discount light-saber.”

“To be fair, I’m sure it’s a very nice discount light-saber.”

It was Leia’s turn to give an undignified snort.  
“Speaking of light-sabers, aren’t you supposed to be taking your Master exam soon?”

Luke groaned and slouched down the wall, tossing the half-finished wreath he’d been working on over his face. “Don’t remind me.”

Leia stopped her fidgeting. “What’s this about? I thought you’d be over the moon to be graduating. You love that Jedi stuff.”

“I know! I don’t get it either” Luke grumbled, blowing a petal away from his mouth. “I just… I feel like I don’t know where I’m going. Like, I’m not sure if this is the right path for me, but… if it’s not, then what is?”

“Did you talk to Dad?”

“Yeah. He said to meditate about it. Which I have. About a hundred times.”

“Is he ok with it… if you, y’know, don’t graduate?”

“I don’t know.” Luke dragged the flowers off of his face and sat up. “He says he is, but I know he wants me to join. He said maybe give it until next year…”

Leia shrugged, as if this clearly settled things.  
“Well, do that then. Push it back, think it over. The Order isn’t going anywhere. And besides, you know you’ll pass your tests. You probably could’ve passed when we were eight.”

“It’s not that I don’t think I _can_ do it… it’s just… I don’t know if I should. Does that make sense?”

“I said the same thing about Han when we met.”

“Ugh, Leia, gross!” He threw the wreath at her. “Too much information!”

“It took your mind off all this Jedi stuff, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, right into some fresh nightmare fuel!”

“Oh, should I go into more detail, brother dear? I can go into much. more. _detail_.”

“Don’t you _dare_.”


	9. Chapter 9

The hologram was slightly grainy, but the woman who stood before him in translucent, shimmering blue was obviously a politician. Her clothes were rich and elaborate, layers and layers of fine gossamer fabric that fluttered and glittered. She was middle-aged, with fine lines around her mouth and eyes. He noticed that the grey streaks that shot through her long hair were artfully braided into ornate loops that treated them more like accessories, then fed into some sort of metal headdress in a twisting pattern. It was a style that could best be described as architectural. The way she held herself implied that she was used to wielding authority – and as he had been discovering for weeks now, the type who never backed down. Maybe she’d been a scrapper who had fought her way to the top? There was something of Fennec in her that nearly tempted him to like her…

Din did not like the Senator. She was, as usual, trying to ‘manage’ him – to talk him around – and she always seemed to be asking questions that he didn’t want to answer. Always prying, these Republic types. They were never satisfied with anything until they had talked it to death. They needed to pick every little detail apart and examine the remains. He’d been very clear about what his people needed, and she had been very clear that they wanted Mandalore to join the Republic. What use then, was all this endless discussion? 

Din didn’t like the Republic either. He’d have outright avoided them and their dithering bureaucracy if he could. He would have been much happier just minding his own business… but if he had to be the _kriffing_ **_Mand’alor_** , then he had to think about what the Mandalorian refugees who were pouring in from all over the galaxy needed. Even if what he had to do to _get_ those things galled him to the core.

Mandalore desperately needed supplies. It was simple fact. They needed food. Terraforming equipment… probably moisture farms too. Not to mention that someone had to keep pirates away from the onslaught of incoming transports. There were too many families, too many children, too many who could not fight, and the ships never seemed to stop coming. What warriors he had were powerful and skilled… but they were simply not enough. Besides, he could not protect the endless caravans of refugees and rebuild Mandalore at the same time. He needed help, whether he wanted it or not.

The Republic assured him over and over that they would deliver aid – that they would send the things he asked for. But every time they commed him, it was with another delay. Another Senator somebody from some planet or other, who wanted to change this or that wording on the terms of the agreement, and could they make do with fewer teraformers? It was maddening.

This woman had been present for nearly every call so far. She’d been mostly a figure in the background at first, jotting down endless notes and interjecting here and there. Lately she was front and center. She didn’t seem like a bad sort, as politicians went, but at this point he was getting extremely tired of both her and her constant excuses.

The Senator was still talking, and Din rolled his eyes beneath the safety of his helmet. He hadn’t been trying especially hard to be diplomatic for some time now, too frustrated to bother, but that still seemed like it might cross a line. Nothing she said surprised him. The Jedi were afraid to come. _Typical_.

The one thing he had asked for himself, the one and only thing that _he_ truly wanted out of all this, was a teacher for the child. And as much as he hated the idea, it had to be a Jedi. If he could tolerate a Jedi in his home, the cowards could tolerate his hospitality. Were they hoping he would beg?

Din would not beg, but he would not relinquish this demand, either. He had learned enough to know that his baby foundling had powers he could not understand… powers that it seemed only Jedi could wield. The child would have to learn to control them if he was ever going to be safe.  
Din could not protect the child every moment of every day, and especially not now that more and more people looked to the Mand’alor to lead them. Those he trusted to mind the baby were few, and they were often needed elsewhere. He could not keep going this way forever.

The Senator had finally finished. She was asking him to reconsider. Again.

“Our needs have not changed, Senator.”

“Please understand, Mand’alor Djarin. We are doing our best. I have sent out a request to all Jedi temples in order to fulfill your request, but given the tensions of the past, many are understandably hesitant to volunteer. I will continue to search for the teacher you have requested, but I cannot guarantee anything at this time.“

He glared at her in silence, tamping down on the frustration that threatened to bubble over. He missed the days when a judiciously used pulse rifle was the solution to most of his problems.

“Have you considered my invitation to visit Naboo as a guest of the Republic, Mand’alor?” the Senator continued after a few awkward moments. She seemed to dislike the silence. _Good_.   
“I often find it easier to resolve such complicated matters in person, and we would be delighted to host you during your stay.”

“I’m sure.”

He glanced at Boba Fett, who stood to one side, listening casually to the conversation. The old man shrugged. _Why not? We’ve tried everything else._

“I have decided to accept your invitation,” Din informed her. He tried not to grit his teeth as he spoke… but he didn’t try very hard. “But I will not come unarmed. And if this turns out to be a trap? I’ll make sure you regret it.”

The Senator smiled and inclined her head in a sort of half-bow, though he was knew she was not really pleased by his answer.

“Thank you Mand’alor Djarin. I accept your conditions and wish to assure you, as I have before, that you will not be harmed in any way during your visit.” He made no reply. She didn’t seem surprised. “I will make the arrangements for your stay immediately.”

“No droids.” He closed the channel.

“Who are you taking on security detail?”

Boba followed him down the ruined corridor of what had once been a large house. It was functioning as a makeshift HQ for the monumental task of reclaiming Mandalore, inside one of the few biodomes that had been set up on arrival. Din was almost getting used to Fett’s habit of walking around bare-headed, despite having a perfectly good helmet. Almost.

“Do we have anyone spare?”

“As much as we ever do.”

“Then I’m going alone.”

Boba didn’t argue. He was a salty bastard sometimes, but he was also a very practical man. There was no one Din could take that wasn’t sorely needed in half a dozen other places already. Besides, if the Republic did turn on him, an escort would only mean a few more bodies in the street beside his. Mandalorians had no equal in most fights, but the Republic had a small army of Jedi wizards, on top of a well-trained and well-armed military of the normal sort. Din had no illusions that he’d be walking away alive if this was an ambush.

“I’m leaving tonight. You’re in charge of construction, Cara will oversee security. Tell Greef he’s watching the kid.”

“I will, but he’s gonna to piss and moan.”

Din smirked, though he knew Fett couldn’t see it.

“For five minutes, maybe. Last time I left the kid with him I came back to finger painting and him singing that stupid song about the womp rat picnic. _With_ the voices.”

“And you didn’t record it for me?”

“I was busy.”

They rounded a corner into Din’s living quarters. It was spartan and mostly empty. A bed, a pack, and a gently hovering bassinet with a blanket and a handful of stuffed toys inside.

“How long do you think this little vacation of hers is going to take?” Boba leaned against the door frame, watching him.

Din shrugged, checking the contents of the pack. He’d need a few more things before taking off, and he’d have to go find the kid and say goodbye. Fennec had him for now.

“With these people, who knows. Hopefully not long. If they drag their feet again, I’ll cut it short.”  
The bag went up over his shoulder, followed by the familiar weight a well-used pulse rifle. The jetpack would, regrettably, have to stay here. It would be of no use in the close quarters of a packed city.  
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”


	10. Chapter 10

“He’s _actually_ coming? **_Here_**?”

Leia couldn’t decide if she was relieved or horrified. If the metallic menace was finally coming to Naboo, negotiations might actually start progressing again. But then again, that meant having to deal with him full time for at least the next few weeks. She wasn’t sure her sanity could take it.

Padme nodded, massaging her temples. She didn’t know why she’d been expecting Djarin to be polite – he never was. Still, hanging up on her was new. She’d called Leia in to debrief (and complain) right after the call.

“The Queen authorized an official visit last month, so long as I agreed to take responsibility for the Mandalorian delegation while they’re here. I think she’d like to keep us on the good side of a planet full of killing-machines in heavy armor, mostly. Coruscant’s contingent wasn’t willing to host him, because… well you’ve seen how he is. And Mandalore hasn’t formally signed anything yet, which makes them jumpy. I think a few of them are worried that it’s all some kind of long-game assassination plot.”

Leia groaned, dropping her face into her hands.  
“I don’t think this lone asshole is going to take out the Senate, Mother.”

Padme nodded wearily. “Neither do I, but I was out-voted. He doesn’t seem like the type. As hard as he is to deal with, I think Djarin _is_ legitimately looking for help here.”

Leia wasn’t sure she really wanted to know, but she had to ask…  
“Where is he staying?”

Padme went back to rubbing her temples.  
“…Guess.”

“Oh no. _Oooooh_ **_no_** …” Leia stared at her. Horrified it was, then. “You _didn’t_ …”

“There wasn’t anywhere else to put him. Believe me, I looked. Since he’s my responsibility, if no one else will take him… We’re stuck with our _guest_ for the duration.”


	11. Chapter 11

Three days later, a small ragged ship docked in the Theed Palace Hangar. The grand sweeping architecture of the hangar only served to make the little ship look even less impressive by comparison. It was a dull, ugly green, and the hull was scratched and dented in several places. It was certainly not what one pictured when thinking of a royal flagship.

Padme and a small contingent of staff waited nearby, resplendent in rich jewel-toned silks and chiffons. Luke stood behind them with several other young Jedi, all wearing their best robes. He was beginning to feel a bit overdressed.

A formation of guards stood at attention, and at a distance. They were there on standby in case of trouble, but were under strict instructions to stay out of the way unless called. It had been Padme’s idea, given the mistrustful nature of their guest.

The ship landed gracefully enough, sliding into place with only minor wobbling and a mild _thunk_ from the landing gear. After a few minutes, the front hatch creaked open, extending a battered metal ramp that rattled and clanked despondently when it touched down. A single figure in head-to-toe armor stepped out, striding purposefully down the ramp with a ratty cape fluttering behind him. No one else followed. He pressed something on his bracer, and the ramp slowly rattled back up. The man stood there alone, imposing and unimpressive all at once.  
This, it would seem, was the Mand’alor.

Luke wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but… it wasn’t this. Someone coughed uncomfortably. Padme swept forward at once with a smile, dragging the whole entourage along in her wake with sheer force of will.

“Mand’alor Djarin, thank you for coming. Welcome to Naboo. Would you like any help unloading your things?”

Djarin impassively jostled a modest grey pack that was slung over his shoulder. The long, scarred muzzle of a pulse rifle bobbed into view behind it.

“No.”

His voice sounded vaguely flat and metallic as it passed through the helmet’s modulator. Between that and the thin black visor that stood in for a face, the impression was eerie.  
With the Mandalorian’s expression hidden, it was difficult to read him… but his general affect was sour. That he had not wanted to come was obvious.

Luke wasn’t sure why, but he found himself fascinated.

Padme’s smile thinned slightly.  
“Allow me to introduce a few of the apprentices from our local Jedi temple. This is Gol Behi-Col, Pandora Io, Luke Skywalker-Amidala, and Tasin Qsi Earithe.” Each padawan dipped their head in greeting as their name was called. The Mand’alor seemed to take some note of Luke – or rather of his last name, though he did not comment on it.

“Not here to volunteer for the cause, I take it.”

“-And this is Adisha Cen, Koreth Tolek, and Sana Noveen,” Padme went on evenly, as if she hadn’t heard. She gestured to the three women (two human and one torgruta) who stood awkwardly beside her. “They are members of my staff. Should you need anything during your stay, please ask one of them and they will be happy to help.”

The bright white light of the hangar glinted on the Mandalorian’s helmet as it tilted almost quizzically.

“I only need what I’ve already asked for.”

“Yes. Of course.” The smile thinned further. “We’ll be reconvening to discuss all of that tomorrow morning. …You must be tired after such a long flight. Please, follow me. I’ll show you where you will be staying.”

___

Luke lagged behind the small party as Padme led everyone up the stone stairs that filled the rear of the hangar, heading toward Theed Palace Square. He didn’t mean to straggle, but his mind was whirring. An odd thread of energy had wrapped itself around him over the course of this strange encounter, and now it began to tug at his senses. It was growing more insistent - demanding his attention. He couldn’t quite tell where it came from yet, but it felt directed. Intentioned. Like it was trying to tell him something. It almost felt… like a call.


	12. Chapter 12

Din took stock as the door closed with a sharp click behind him. The room was nice, he’d give it that. It was still a bit over the top, and nothing like he was used to… But it was surprisingly – pleasantly - modest. He’d been expecting something a lot more garish and showy, especially after all the pomp and nonsense they’d greeted him with.

In general, the space was comfortable. There was a thick woven rug in red and gold on the floor, a small writing desk, an unremarkable bed, a sturdy wooden chair with curling flowers in silhouette cut out of the back, and a small window framed in carved wooden vines that twined around and around each other. Two doors led off of the main room, one on either side.

The first turned out to be a large closet that he didn’t expect to use. The other contained the one luxury in this place that he _did_ whole-heartedly endorse. It was a private refresher with a locking door, tiled in white ceramic that felt blessedly cool to the touch. It was stocked with some of the thickest towels he’d ever seen, as well as a staggering assortment of soaps, cosmetics, lotions, and perfumes. He ignored most of them, eventually selecting the least ostentatious looking bar of soap he could find. It smelled vaguely floral, but the scent was mild. It would do.

Naboo wasn’t any hotter than Mandalore, but it was a lot more humid. After so much time in the arid deserts of Mandalore, the air here felt oppressive. It was like a thick, smothering blanket, pressing damp and heavy against everything it could reach. He couldn’t imagine how people lived like this all the time.

After a thorough search for surveillance that turned up nothing, Din made sure that the ‘fresher door was locked and his blaster was within reach. Then he began slowly and methodically removing his armor, piece by piece, and setting it in a tidy pile on the floor. The webbing was sweat-damp and clammy, and he doubted it would dry much before he was done, but at least he’d be clean.

Beskar was strong stuff, deflecting blasters and blades alike better than just about any other armor there was… but it had to be treated with respect. It was rare, coveted, and conspicuous. …And it was also one of the last things that he still had from his old covert. He ran a thoughtful hand over the Mudhorn signet that adorned his pauldron. _A clan of two…_

He was careful to set each section gently on top of the last as he undressed. He thought about the covert, and hoped those who were left would join the refugees eventually. But then that was assuming there _were_ any left…

Din decided not to think about it anymore.

He turned on the water as cold as it would go and stepped underneath, breathing a sharp sigh of relief. He let himself stand there a long time before he actually started washing, just savoring the refreshing, distracting bite of the icy water against his skin. It was a rare indulgence.

Maybe this fool’s errand wouldn’t be so bad after all.


	13. Chapter 13

Luke milled around his bedroom, restless and bored. He’d wanted to talk to Leia about the strange feeling that had come over him as soon as they got back, but there hadn’t been time. He’d had to accompany his mother back to the house with their guest, and then run to the temple to meet Master Plo for training. He’d been there until well after dark.

By the time Luke had finally gotten home, his sister was already gone. She and Han were out on the town tonight, apparently. With the onerous, plodding negotiations starting up again in the morning, Leia wasn’t expecting to have much free time for a while. From her note, Han had insisted they go to dinner and relax while they had the chance. Luke didn’t begrudge her a break - he was sure she needed it… He just wished the timing had been better.

Idly, he wondered if his mother regretted asking the Padawans to join her welcome party. It didn’t seem to have made a very good impression on the Mand’alor, at any rate. Leia had told him the idea was to show that the Republic been talking to the Jedi and were still working on finding him that teacher he so badly wanted: _Look, see, we even brought some of them along_.  
Luke knew that normally welcome parties were bigger, and often much grander that this one had been. One he’d accompanied had even had an orchestra set up to play when the ramp came down.  
Today’s group had been kept small and quiet, to accommodate the Mandalorian leader’s incessant paranoia.

Luke decided he was glad to have been there anyway, whether it had helped the Republic’s cause or not. He wasn’t sure if the strange pull he’d felt would have found him otherwise... It certainly seemed related to their guest, though he had no idea how.  
Whatever it was still twined itself around his mind, nudging and prodding - but he could make no more sense of it now than he had this afternoon.

He dropped himself listlessly at the window, looking out over the twinkling city lights. Theed sparkled in the darkness for miles, stretching out in every direction. As a child Luke had loved to sit up long after he was supposed to be asleep, trying to imagine what each light represented, who the people it belonged to were. He tried playing his old childhood game now, if only to distract himself – but his chaotic thoughts would not settle, and after a few wasted minutes, he gave up.

He could go talk to his father about it, Luke supposed… But something held him back. It was the same reason he had said nothing to Master Plo all evening.

_What if he was wrong?_

Anakin had hoped to see at least one of his children become a Jedi since the twins were in diapers. He was carefully trying not to apply pressure – always insisting that it was Luke’s decision to make… but it was starkly clear what his father wanted, nonetheless. 

Luke sighed, tearing himself away from the window. What if he got everyone’s hopes up that he was finally ready… and then it turned out to be nothing after all? He could live with the embarrassment, but he knew Anakin would be crushed. Luke couldn’t do that to him.

That was why he’d wanted to talk to Leia. She didn’t care if Luke graduated or not – she had no particular stake in the Jedi Order. She would just listen and help him sort out his thoughts – make sense of it all. Leia was good at that kind of thing.

But Leia wasn’t here, and she probably wouldn’t have time to spare for a heart-to-heart anytime soon.

There was nothing for it. He’d just have to try meditating. Again.  
At least that should help slow down his muddled thoughts enough to examine them. And maybe… maybe at last, if he cleared his mind and let the Force flow through him… it really would show him the way.


	14. Chapter 14

This didn’t make any sense. Not that visions always did, but… he’d never had one as strange as this one before.

“… Master… Yoda?”

The resemblance was unmistakable, but the small green figure who stared curiously back at him did not look quite like the Yoda that Luke remembered. They were far smaller, and… well it was hard to tell given he wasn’t actually sure what species Master Yoda _was_ , but he was pretty sure this creature was a good deal younger too.

It burbled something at him, waving small clawed fingers and smiling wide.

This was definitely not Master Yoda.

The creature appeared to be a child, possibly even a baby… though it probably _was_ at least of the same species as the late Jedi Master. It also didn’t seem to really have any idea what it was doing.

He caught faint impressions of words, projected from the baby’s thoughts, though they were clumsy, jumbled, and clipped.

_Father Gone Find?_

“Your father is gone?”

The baby rocked and clapped, seemingly delighted to have been heard.

**_FATHER FATHER FIND?_ **

Luke cringed as the words boomed and echoed through his mind like the blast of a detonator. Though it would do nothing to drown out the sound, he instinctively slammed his hands over his ears.

He felt a wave of remorse and the child crooned mournfully. The mental speech was far quieter when it reached out again.

_Find? Big sad Find?_

“Who are you? _Where_ are you?”

There was a noise that seemed to come from far away, on the child’s end of the connection he would guess. It was distorted and muddy, like the source was deep underwater, but it sounded like a door opening and closing. 

The child blinked and disappeared.

Luke found himself alone, and more confused than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why hello there, little fella...


	15. Chapter 15

Din was already awake, inspecting his blaster at the little wooden desk, when there was a tentative knock on his door.

As eager as he was to get this nonsense over with, he was surprised to be called down to business already. The sun had barely begun to rise half an hour ago. 

He slid the weapon back into its holster.  
“Bit early to start your meetings isn’t it?”

“I’ve brought you some breakfast, sir,” came the muffled reply. It was one of the aids from the day before. He wasn’t sure which one. “The Senator said you would be taking your meals in private. May I come in?”

 _Huh… apparently Amidala had listened to **something** he’d said. _Din was begrudgingly impressed.

He opened the door to find the torgruta woman standing there with a covered metal tray. Koreth, if he remembered the introductions correctly. She smiled nervously and he stood aside to let her in.

“Put it on the desk,” Din instructed flatly, then caught himself. As much as he was coming to loathe dealing with the Republic, this particular woman had done nothing to wrong him. He’d save his ire for the Senators. “Please,” he added after a beat.

Koreth seemed surprised, but she didn’t comment; carefully arranging the tray on one half of the desk. She paused in the doorway on her way out, awkwardly smoothing down her skirt. It was crimson today.

“The Senator requests that you join her downstairs by 9, sir.”

“Understood.”

Koreth seemed to be waiting for a longer answer, but when it became clear that nothing else was forthcoming, she dipped her head in the same miniature bow that Amidala had used, and left.

Closing the door behind her, Din did another sweep for surveillance equipment on the tray itself. Granted, that kind of thing didn’t quite seem like Amidala’s style, but it didn’t matter. He hadn’t survived this long by taking stupid chances.

At length, satisfied that there was nothing to find, he sat down and pulled his helmet free. There was a faint suction sound as the seal released. He set it down beside the tray.

Whatever she’d brought certainly _smelled_ good, Din had to admit. Something spiced and sweet mingled with an herby, savory scent. It was a lot more appealing than the scant, half-smashed rations he’d been eating lately, at any rate. The cover was warm to the touch when he lifted it, and steam licked out lazily across his hands.

Breakfast turned out to be some sort of bright yellow poached eggs in a creamy red sauce, sprinkled over with blue and green flecks. He took these to be the herbs he’d smelled. A stack of small, coarse, round cakes sat beside them, smothered in thick, sticky syrup. Three fat green sausages were tucked in between what he presumed were flapjacks and the eggs, rounding out the meal. Next to the plate was a mug of caff, steaming merrily in the mercifully cooler air of the early morning, and an elegantly fluted glass filled with water.

Digging in, he was pleased to discover that it indeed tasted as good as it had smelled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let Din have nice things...


	16. Chapter 16

Luke hadn’t slept well.

He couldn’t get the child he’d seen out of his mind. He wondered if they were in danger - but the baby hadn’t seemed frightened, just… lonely? But then, he wouldn’t even call the emotion he’d sensed _loneliness_ , so much as maybe longing. They had seemed so excited to be heard… maybe the child really was all alone?  
No, no… he was almost certain that he’d heard a door just before the connection was severed. There must be *someone* else there…

Luke rubbed irritably at tired eyes. He was going around in circles and getting nowhere.

He should probably just ask Master Plo about it. This could all very well just be a youngling finding their connection to the Force for the first time and taking it for a joyride. Maybe Plo would even know who the baby’s father was.

It was worth a try.

___

Plo Koon’s face was hard to read behind the antiox mask, but he appeared to be thinking.

“And the child spoke to you?”

“Yes… well, no. Sort of. It didn’t seem to actually be able to speak, but I got fragments of its thoughts. It seemed really excited about that.”  
Master Plo nodded contemplatively. “Do you know who the child is, Master? I didn’t think there _were_ any others like Master Yoda.”

Plo shook his head. “I know of no child matching that description. I will search the rosters. It may be as you say, a youngling who has just awakened to the Force. …Regardless, I doubt that this encounter was chance.”

Luke blinked. “You think the child was looking for me?”

Plo’s face shifted into what might have been a smile.  
“No. I believe the child’s motivations were exactly as they said. Perhaps _you_ were searching for _them_.”

“But, I wasn’t looking for a baby,” Luke protested, “I was just trying to- …” he cut himself off. He’d nearly said more than he meant to.

Master Plo did not appear to have noticed.

“I would advise you to meditate on this again and seek out the child. If you are able, speak with them. Ask your questions. Perhaps they will tell you more.”


	17. Chapter 17

The Mand’alor sat in stony silence across the conference table from Leia. It was probably her imagination, but the thin black T of his visor seemed to be glaring at her. Unsurprisingly, he wasn’t any more pleasant to work with in person.

“We understand your frustration,” the Senator from Ryloth was saying, his leku twitching with suppressed annoyance. “But we cannot simply force someone to accept such a dangerous assignment. Please, consider it from our perspective.”

Djarin very deliberately pressed the palms of thick leather gloves to the table top as he stood. The room went quiet. There was something vaguely menacing about the gleam of the hologram’s glow in his polished armor plates. The helmet still distorted his voice, but there was no mistaking the disdain that dripped from every word.

“From **_my_** perspective, _Senator_ , it's been over six months. I have yet to see your many promises happen. I have people to feed, house, and protect. More of them by the day. For all your talk, I haven’t seen any actual aid arriving to support them – and that’s ignoring _the kriffing Jedi_. Is that _considered_ enough?”

The twi'lek blanched and sat down.

Leia stood up.

“Mand’alor, please. We are _trying_ to help your people. I know the process is slow, but gathering the supplies you requested takes time. We don’t have a stockpile at the ready that can simply be loaded and transported. No one here wants to see Mandalorians starve. We are working toward a common purpose.”

The visor was definitely glaring at her now.

“Only one of us has to face those people and tell them there’s no food coming. Again. What we do have won’t make it another six months.”

“We shipped the surplus we had immediately,” Leia reminded him. “We are doing the best we can to acquire more. It won’t be another six months, but… If we could just send teams to help establish agriculture-“

“We’ve heard that one before, Senator. I’m sure you remember how it ended.”

It was a paraphrased version of history, but he wasn’t wrong. Leia bit back a denial.  
It wouldn’t matter to Djarin that the instigators of that war had been corrupt or that they’d been punished in the aftermath. It wouldn’t matter that half of them had turned out to be Separatists in the end. All he would see was Republic interference and the resulting bloodshed.

She folded her hands. “Then there is nothing we can do that we are not already doing.”

“Then this was a waste of time.”  
Without another word, the Mand’alor turned and walked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think that went well...


	18. Chapter 18

This time, the child was there waiting for him as soon as Luke had cleared his mind. It began to trill excitedly when it saw him. More fragments of thoughts and words juttered past as the child toddled toward him.

_Friend! Find?_

The words echoed cheerfully through his mind.

“I’d like to be your friend, little one. Can you tell me who you are?”

_Grogu Friend Father? Friend find?_

“Grogu?”  
The baby babbled excitedly.  
“That’s your name?”  
More babbling. Luke decided to take this as a yes.  
“I don’t know who your father is, Grogu. Do you know where he went?”

_Go talk Blue Big sad_

“Blue? Why is he sad?”

_Grogu sad Father go._

“You miss your dad, huh.” Grogu trilled sadly. It reached out and wrapped its little clawed fingers around his hand. Luke felt a sharp tug on his senses and suddenly he found himself sitting in a bare, dimly lit room that he had never seen before. He climbed slowly to his feet. The child burbled eagerly, still firmly clutching onto his fingers.

Looking around, there was little to go on, but they seemed to be in a very thinly furnished bedroom. Grogu pulled at him, dragging him toward a bassinette that floated serenely in one corner. The child pointed insistently, urging him to look.

At first, Luke saw nothing. Just a handful of stuffed toys and an old blanket. Then, tacked to the wall behind the cradle, he noticed a bit of paper.

Drawn across its surface in the crude hand of a child, was little Grogu…

He was standing beside the Mand’alor.

_Father!_

Luke snapped back to himself with a gasp, shock breaking the connection.

He’d been an idiot. How had he not realized sooner? Hadn’t he _just_ been talking to Leia about a mystery child not even a week ago, and suddenly here was a just such a child calling out to him? Grogu had even said he was looking for his father.

It had been staring Luke right in the face.

The ‘blue’ Grogu had mentioned must be the holo calls that had been going back and forth during the treaty negotiations, and- ... _Calls_.

…Of course.

Another thing that had been staring him in the face. Wasn’t this _exactly_ what he’d been waiting for? For the Force to call out to him? To show him his path? Well now it had.

… His family was not going to like this …


	19. Chapter 19

Din kept walking. He was back to the Senator's house already, all but standing at the base of the stairs, but Amidala was still trying to talk him into going back to the conference. She had been all the way here.

That's all any of these Republic types ever seemed to do: talk. Worse, they never seemed to stop talking. Maybe the Senators had time to sit around and have a nice long tea party while they decided what font to use. Din, however, did not. He had a lot of people - a truly terrifying number of them - counting on him for basic survival right now. Time was one luxury he definitely did not have.

Amidala was still talking.

Finally, Din had had enough and rounded on her. The Senator very nearly crashed right into him.

"I came here because _you_ asked me to, Senator," he growled. "Because this little excursion was supposed to 'resolve' all these constant delays and get us the kriffing aid you all promised." He pointed behind her, the way they'd come. "Your colleague back there seems pretty sure there's nothing to _be_ resolved. Seems we just have to keep waiting. So tell me, Senator, was she lying?" 

He could see her trying to come up with a 'diplomatic' denial before she even opened her mouth.  
"It's a difficult situation, but we're working as quickly as we can. If you would just return to the table, we could try to-"

"That's what I thought."  
  
Din tuned her out as he started up the stairs to gather his meager things from the room he’d been given. If there was nothing to be done, there was no reason for him to be here.

He'd just reached the upper landing when one of the doors ahead of him suddenly flew open with a bang. The blonde apprentice he’d seen at the hangar yesterday came bursting out, robes in disarray, looking wild-eyed. Din froze, hand automatically lurching for his blaster before he remembered himself.

The Senator, still close behind on the grand stone stairs, stopped in her tracks. Her tone abruptly lost all its careful polish.

“…Luke?”

 _Right._ This was the Senator’s son... It had been Skywalker- _Amidala_ , hadn’t it? Din had almost forgotten about him.

The Senator quickly brushed past, politics dropped for the moment. Din let her. Whatever was happening here, he wasn't sure he wanted any part of it.

“Luke, what’s wrong? Are you alright?” Amidala laid a very careful hand on her son’s wrist. “What are you-“

“ _Mand’alor_!” The Jedi’s pale eyes landed suddenly on Din and he surged forward. “Please, I need to speak to you!”

Din had never seen the Senator so thoroughly thrown before. It was almost entertaining.

The Jedi- Luke- was all earnestness, beaming so hard he was practically vibrating.

“I know what I need to do now. If you will allow me, I will train your son.”


	20. Chapter 20

The landing was silent.

“I saw him,” Luke continued, frustrated that they didn’t seem to understand. The Mand’alor stiffened noticeably. “I saw the child.”

“How?”  
The modulator distortion made it hard to read the man’s tone. It could’ve been angry, shocked... even curious.

“I felt him through the Force,” Luke explained quickly. “I didn’t know what it was at first – there was just this… this pull. It started at the hanger. …I think he was looking for you. When I reached out to find the source, I saw him. He kept asking me to find his father. …He really misses you.”

Irritation and a hint of disappointment radiated off of Djarin. He crossed his arms firmly over his chest.

“You almost had me going, Jedi. The kid can’t talk.”

“No he can’t,” Luke agreed. He was aware that he himself was probably talking much too fast - but still buzzing with his recent discovery, he couldn’t seem to slow down. “-He can’t _talk_ , but he _can_ communicate. It’s just bits and pieces, fragments of thoughts that spill out into the Force. I think he might be too young to do much more than that. He seemed so excited that I could hear him, though.”

This appeared to have piqued the Mand’alor’s interest. The arms slowly uncrossed.  
“You said you saw him.”

“Yes. He was about this high-,” Luke held a hand around his shins, “green skin, long pointed ears. He looks a lot like my former Master, actually.”

Djarin regarded him in thoughtful silence for a long moment.

There was a slightly strangled noise to his left. A spike of guilt struck him as Luke risked a glance sidelong at his mother. Her expression was a mixture of confusion and vague speechless horror. She would definitely have words for him later, though, Luke was sure of that…  
  
“And you can teach him?” The odd modulated voice called his attention back. “About this… Jedi magic, or whatever it is?”  
  
Luke nodded. He probably should have been nervous, maybe terrified… but instead he felt only certainty.  
“I can.”  
  
“Then pack what you need. We leave tomorrow.”

It was clearly not a request.


End file.
